


Risky Business

by super_queer



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Body Modification, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Cute Ending, Fluff, Human Derek Hale, Licking, M/M, Multi, Pierced Stiles, Piercings, Sexual Content, Tattoo Artist Derek, Tattooed Derek, Tattooed Stiles, Tattoos, Teen Wolf, Tongue Piercings, Top Derek, Workplace, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-11
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-11 12:26:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/798710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/super_queer/pseuds/super_queer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles goes to get a tattoo in memory of his mother, and his tattoo artist just happens to be Derek Hale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Autumn leaves littered the grounds of Beacon Hills, California. Stiles Stillinski was visiting his father, the sheriff of Beacon Hills, at his childhood home. It was the anniversary of Stiles’ mom’s death and instead of doing the usual moping around his father had grown accustomed to, he announced he was going to get a tattoo in her honor. 

The sheriff has little say in the situation anyway, Stiles was 21 now, just finishing up college and recently moved into his own apartment in Washington. However, it was pretty common for Stiles to stay at his dad’s house for a bit around this time of year. At breakfast this particular day he made the announcement.

“Oh?” his father picked up his head from the newspaper he was reading at the table. 

Stiles pushed his spoon around in his bowl of cereal. “Yeah, today actually. I just thought it would be, you know… nice.” Stiles wondered if he should continue, but talking is his forte so, “Because it’s been ten years tomorrow and all, I’m thinking that I’ll get this and maybe not spend… so much time around here next year.” 

The sheriff shared a sad smile. His father had worn black for a long time, but he knows Stiles never stopped. Of course he missed his late wife terribly but accepted some time ago that she would’ve wanted him to be happy. This revelation made him swell with pride and relief. 

After breakfast Stiles washed the dishes from his father and himself before going up to his room. He stripped his shirt off and gazed at his body in a mirror above a small chest of drawers. Stiles was pretty gangly, but had some muscle padding his lean frame so he didn’t look like a total tweaker in contrast with his pale skin and dark under eye circles. He sighed as his eyes scoped over his skin like a metal detector. Stiles slowly turned around, craning his neck to see behind him and studied his refection intently, set on finding a space just perfect for the tattoo without too many freckles. 

He settled with just above his right shoulder blade. A lot of people find it stupid to get someone’s name tattooed on their skin in some cursive font. But it’s more than a name. It’s a reminder of someone immensely important to him in one perfect, simple word. So he didn’t care what anyone else thought. Fuck people.

Stiles crashed back on his bed for a couple minutes just staring at the ceiling and thinking. This was a big step for him in getting out of the mourning process. He'd never been good at letting things go. The only tattoo shop he knew of was Risky Business Body Art, it was some kind of family owned place. After about twenty minutes, Stiles scooped himself up, got in his jeep and headed over there.

The building had been there as long as Stiles could remember; it stood out quite a lot from the other buildings in the downtown area surrounding it. The bricks were a darker red than anyone else’s and the sign was in contrasting white calligraphy, huge above an industrial prison- like gray door. Stiles parked and fed a meter before crossing up the pavement to the door. He took a deep breath and stepped inside.

Stiles was pleasantly surprised. The inside was nice- like crazy nice. All the furniture was leather and the walls were painted a deep purple but copious amounts of lighting detracted from the otherwise dark feel of the shop. He realized he’d never once been inside even though it’s been here his whole life. Stiles was never one for tattoos and piercings, but he may or may not appreciate them very much on others. Very, very much. 

A round counter encased the corner at the far end of the shop, with a small computer and glass case full of rods and rings showcased brilliantly in boxes and on felt surfaces. There was a man standing behind it looking highly interested in his nails until he heard Stiles open the door. His head snapped up to meet Stiles before an easy grin spread across his face. 

He was pretty damn attractive if Stiles did say so himself. He had light blue eyes and slicked back hair paired with a sturdy-looking frame and general air of grace and poise.

“Hey.” He smiled. “Welcome to Risky Business, my name is Peter.”

Peter Hale, one of original owners of the shop. Stiles remember hearing about some sort of fire that killed his siblings, and co- owners, when he was little. Stiles approached the counter cautiously, as he became more and more nervous about coming events. “Hi. I’m, uh, Stiles.” He smiled back and tried to look as cool as possible. ‘You belong here’ he kept telling himself. Somewhere off in the back of the shop he heard faint buzzing.

“What can we do for you today, Stiles?” evidently Peter was much better with random strangers than Stiles was. “Tattoo? Piercing?” Stiles blanched as Peters smile turned hungry. “North or... South?" Peter looked Stiles up and down, his smile never wavering at the apparent discomfort of the client. "Laura is usually our piercer but I’d do it.” He leaned his elbow against the counter and placed his head on his hand lessening the space between him and Stiles.

“Oh, no, uh, thanks but-“ at that moment another gorgeous member of the human species entered the room from the back door. She had long tousled black hair that hit the small of her back and piercing green eyes encircled with tastefully done dark makeup. She was wearing a lot of black, and it was all very- tight. 

“Peter, we have ten 16g biopsy punches left, don’t say I didn’t tell you this time.” She walked around behind the counter to the computer and changed the song that was playing on it. Stiles hadn't even noticed the music until that moment. To say he was overwhelmed would be an understatement. Peter sighed and leaned back from the counter and out of Stiles’ personal space. 

“You're interrupting my fun, Laura, look at this fresh meat here.” Peter gestured towards Stiles who suddenly felt wholly uncomfortable- even more than usual. He coughed and straightened up.

Laura let out a giggle, “Ahh. New to this, aren’t you? Don’t be scared. It’s fun.” She would say that. Upon further inspection, Stiles could see tattoos poking out from under her sleeves and decorating her knuckles along with at least eight ear piercings on each side. It’s her turn to lean across the counter now. “What are you hoping to get done?”

“Oh, I uh-” Stiles jumped and fished around for the paper in his pocket, “Can I get this tattooed on my shoulder?” He handed the paper more towards Peter, but Laura snatched it.

“Lovely name, is it your girlfriend?” Laura handed the paper off to Peter who scanned it and raised both eyebrows impossibly high.  
Stiles felt blush creep up his cheeks, “That’s my mom’s name.” Babbling seemed like a good idea. “Today is the 10th anniversary of her passing, so…” he wanted to avoid any further confusion, and talking at all, which was a first. “yeah.”

Peter brought his brows together and nodded. “Seems doable but, let’s ask the artist himself. Derek!” 

If another beautiful person comes into this room, Stiles might not be able to handle it. The next extraordinarily pretty person to enter, Stiles could only assume was Derek Hale. He had massive shoulders, rippling biceps, huge ass pecs and washboard abs. This was only thinly covered by a baseball shirt, which is stretched taught enough for Stiles to see massive amounts of tattoos painted over quite the canvas of a body. And let’s not even get started on the face. It’s fucking stoic- that’s the best word for it- carved by freaking gods and just so, so, tan like the rest of him. His eyes were also bright green, like Laura’s, but with a ring of dark brown circling the pupils. His face seemed permanently etched in a sort of disappointed expression, but that didn’t detract from its infinite loveliness. Derek also has piercings: his ear lobes were stretched, fairly small, with a small claw-looking thing hanging from the right side and several other rings encircling the upper part of the same ear.

Derek walked toward the counter and Stiles let out an embarrassing sigh before he realized he was even holding his breath. To try and ease his mind as Derek looked over the paper, he laughed at the pun about Derek being breath taking. Stiles is hilarious. Derek alternated his gaze from the paper to Stiles before asking in a husky voice, “Where do you want this?” 

Stiles flailed a little while indicating the spot above his right shoulder blade. “Here.” He managed to choke out. Being in the presence of perfect 10s is hard sometimes.

“Okay.” Derek says calmly. “It’s gonna be something like sixty dollars, is that ok?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Right, let’s get started.”

The next fifteen minutes are filled with signing wavers and exchanging money, forms, and care instructions. Before he knows it, Stiles is being led into the back room by Derek.

Stiles is defiantly not staring at Derek’s ass the whole way to the tattoo station area.

Nope.

Derek has Stiles sit on a swivel chair backwards and remove his shirt. Derek slips on some gloves and begins to set up his station. Stiles is still freakishly nervous and is not ready for the impending pain and most likely acting like a sissy about it in front of Derek Hale. He tries to take deep breaths. Derek places a temporary copy of the name on Stiles shoulder made from the paper he brought. 

Stiles doesn’t realize he’s vibrating until a strong hand comes down on his shoulder to steady him. “Woah. It’s gonna be okay. They don’t hurt bad at all, especially not one this small.” Derek says, emotionless, but Stiles sucks the absent sincerity out of the statement to comfort himself.

“Sorry.” He says softly before one last deep breath.

It really doesn’t hurt bad at all. After about fifteen minutes of Stiles chattering mindlessly about his mom, the tattoo is done by the skilled hands of Derek Hale. Once he gets the okay, Stiles checks the tattoo out in the mirror. It’s perfect. Stiles can help but grin wildly. Maybe someday he’ll get another, but only if Derek does it.

Derek places a bandage on top of Stiles’ new edition and Stiles slips his shirt back on. “Thanks, man.” Stiles grins and holds his hand out for Derek to shake. Derek’s eyes flicker from his hand to his face but then he takes it only for a second before grunting “you’re welcome” and walking away. Stiles heart flutters until after he comes back into the front room of the shop. Peter and Laura are still there, looking bored. After confirming to them that his experience was satisfactory, he bids them good day.

Stiles spins back around when he hears Peter say, “I can still do your tongue if you want, or your-“ Laura cuts him off by slapping a hand over his mouth. “Have a nice day Stiles, call us if you have any questions and come back soon!” she says instead.

Maybe he will.

Stiles is thinking he might just stay in Beacon Hills a little longer.


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles returned to the house in a daze. He’d come up with at least four reasons to go back to the tattoo parlor within the next week during the drive home. Because in this short time he’s decided he likes tattoos on himself. And Derek Hale. Especially Derek Hale.

Stiles pulled into the driveway to see his father’s police cruiser missing. He bumbled inside, still feeling pretty effervescent despite the soft ache in his shoulder. Regardless of that pain, he jerked himself off to Derek Hale until he found blissful sleep.

The next day Stiles went to wander around town for a few hours. He saw Risky Business once again and ever so slyly peeked through the window while he was passing. There was no sign of Peter or Laura, but Derek himself was standing behind the counter chatting it up with a customer. This made Stiles freeze. He pretended that he dropped something while noticing that this particular patron was none other than Lydia Martin.

And this strawberry-blonde bombshell seemed to be making Derek very happy. There was smiling involved, which in the half hour Stiles has known Derek, seemed rare. Stiles tried to push back jealousy and decided to use Lydia as an excuse to go inside.

Lydia had stayed in Beacon Hills after her graduation, which was early because she ended up taking several college courses during her junior and senior years of high school. Stiles thinks that she stayed because she enjoys being the prettiest and smartest girl in town, but he’d never actually say that to her. They’d become pretty good friends after he’d decided to stop pining after her when he’d figured his shit out and focused a little more on the males of the species.

After picking up his imaginary item off the ground, he fussed up his hair, straightened the pull strings on his red hoodie and walked in.

Lydia turned from Derek and a lovely smile spread across her face. However, Derek’s smile faltered and he stiffened at the new development. Stiles tried not to act hurt, and suddenly felt pretty guilty about interrupting them. He walked over to them and Lydia pulled him into a hug.

“Hey, babe, you didn’t tell me you were in town.” Lydia purrs before releasing Stiles. Derek flinches at the word ‘babe’ and Lydia shoots him a look that Stiles can’t read. “How long are you staying?”

Stiles relaxes a bit and his eyes flash from Derek to her. “I’m not sure yet. I’m thinking longer than usual.” Derek looks kind of pissed off and he folds his arms across his chest. His beautiful, large, chest. Stiles flails a bit with his words, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt-“ a blush crept up his face and he took a step back.

“Nonsense, we weren’t doing anything important.” She dismisses and Derek rolls his eyes.

“Are you getting a tattoo?” Stiles flicks a finger between Derek and her. Lydia shakes her head.

“Do you know Derek Hale?” she asks openly gesturing to him. 

Stiles nods with a little too much enthusiasm before coughing and ‘calmly’ stating, “Yeah, I got a tattoo yesterday. It turned out really well.” He says the last bit more to Derek than Lydia.

Derek nods curtly and looks back to Lydia. Lydia smiled at the two of them until the moment got awkward. She coughed to hide a giggle. Stiles is now confused as hell but decides that this was probably not the place for him at this moment. He starts to back away before seeing the back door open, revealing Laura Hale.

“Oh, well hello again.” She coos before walking behind the counter. “We thought we might see you again. Peter’s at lunch but he told me to tell you he still wants to pierce your-“ Derek cuts her off by elbowing her in the ribs and she lets out a soft ‘ow’ before glowering at him.

“Oh, uh” Stiles stutters “No, thanks. I just came to say hi to Lydia.” He gestured towards her. The air had become so awkward, it was almost tangible. He looked at Derek once more before saying his goodbyes and slipping out of the place. 

As he crossed the front of the building he saw through the window Derek pinching the bridge of his nose while Laura and Lydia giggled at who knows what. Stiles huffed and pulled his hood over his head.

Stiles couldn’t stop thinking about why Lydia knew Derek that night and it was bothering the shit out of him. He glanced over at his clock after lying in bed sulking for a few good hours to see that it was 11:47. Perfect texting time (right?) and Stiles couldn’t take it anymore.

He pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket and selected Lydia’s number.

Stiles: LYDIA!!!

Lydia: What?

Stiles: How do you know Derek Hale?

Lydia: Why?

Stiles: HOW DO YOU KNOW DEREK HALE??

Lydia: He's a friend.

Stiles groaned and rolled over on his bed. Why must you never cooperate, Lydia fucking Martin.

Stiles: What kind of friend?

Lydia: A friend, Stiles.

Stiles: Like a sexy friend, or?

Lydia: More like a sassy gay friend. Minus the sassy. Grumpy gay friend. 

Since Stiles was alone in his bedroom he didn’t have to hide the fist-pump to the air he did.

Stiles: Okay, thanks.

Lydia: Why?

Stiles: Goodnight, Lydia.

Lydia: Stiles

Lydia: STILES

Stiles preoccupied himself that night Google-ing lingo about piercings and tattoos in attempt to have any sort of relatable material to talk to Derek about. He really hoped he wasn’t being too creepy about this. But, plan Woo-Derek-Hale was now in action.

Stiles was taking pretty good care of his tattoo, keeping it clean and out of the sun. But after a few days the skin started flaking off and it was freaking him out. So, he decided to use it as an excuse to see Derek again.

Stiles pulled up to Risky Business for the third day in a row. When he walked inside, he was greeted by a wide smile from Peter Hale. He noticed that Laura and Derek were sprawled out on some couches on the far end of the waiting area. Laura waived, but Derek just stared up at the ceiling.

“Stiles! What can we do for you on this fine day?” Peter called at him. Stiles approached the counter and glanced warily back at Derek who was staring at him now, but his eyes went quickly back to the ceiling like it was far more interesting.

“Hey, sorry for bothering you guys every day.” Peter waved a dismissive hand at him like that was the most nonsensical thing he’d ever heard. “But my tattoo is like, falling off, or something.”

Derek grunts from the couch. He stood and Stiles noticed that he’s only wearing an incredibly thin tank top today, exposing a plethora of tattoos that bent and stretched with the movements of his body as he approached Stiles. He didn’t look amused. But he did look hot.

“Let me see.” He demanded.

Well, damn, boy. 

Stiles debated whether or not to say ‘buy me a drink first, jeez’ and decided to go with the latter. He quickly sliped his shirt over his head and feelt pretty exposed as Derek examined him. “This is normal. A tattoo is a wound, so it scabs up. And then flakes off the top layer as the ink sinks deeper.” He deadpans after a minute. Stiles suddenly felt even more inadequate and exposed. He blushed and pulled his shirt back over his head.  
“Oh, duh, sorry.” He started to walk away before Peter caught his arm.

“Don’t let this grumpy-gills get you down. Are you sure I can’t talk you into a piercing? Lots of guys get their tongues done.” Peter raised his eyebrows, really trying to sell this.

Although the idea of giving Derek a fantastic blow job with one of them sounded tempting, he held his hands out in front of his chest to say no.

“You faint at the sight of blood?” Derek says, a light smile playing on his mouth. Stiles would probably hate the guy if he wasn’t so damn beautiful. Stiles puffs out his chest unconsciously, trying to measure up.

“No way, man. Blood- yeah, great.” Stiles suddenly felt like he was being dared. Stiles will take that dare. Stiles was always good at making reckless decisions, it takes talent.

Laura stood up now and walked around in front of Stiles, eyeing him up and down. “Why don’t we just do his ears?” she says to her family while still looking toward him. Stiles considered it for a moment before nodding firmly. This will be a bonding experience, he’s sure of it.

Another flurry of forms and debit cards later, Stiles finds himself in a chair in a different back room. Laura was going to do the piercing, but Derek followed and watched Stiles intently with a blank face.

To Stiles, this felt quite a lot like getting his tattoo done. His breathing became uneven and he started worrying his lower lip. He looked over at Derek again, who raised an eyebrow.

“It’ll be okay, dude.” were his words of advice before Laura plunged a needle into Stiles ear. It didn’t hurt but the crunch his lobe made was slightly disturbing. Stiles cringed and looked over to see Derek silently laughing. ‘Well, at least he’s not scowling,’ he thought.

When Laura was done, she left the room to go grab Stiles some saline solution, leaving him alone with Derek. Derek of course looked zen, nothing gets to this guy. Which of course made Stiles’ head race with situations in which he could make Derek unravel. To avoid any impending awkward, he decided to babble, which almost never works, but whatever.

“I like your eyelets.” he says, testing his Google knowledge and gesturing towards Derek’s ears. Derek bowed his head forward and muttered ‘thanks”. Stiles noticed that Derek was still wearing that tooth-claw pendant thing from one ear. “What’s that?” he pointed at it.

Derek’s fingers entrapped the small bone, twisting it around between them. “This is a wolf’s canine tooth.”

Stiles eyebrows shot up. He frowned and nodded, impressed. “Did you take it down yourself?” He blurted.

Derek flashed him a fake smile before returning to his usual scowl. Stiles just looked around, embarrassed but luckily Laura chose that moment to walk back in the room. 

She handed him a swag- bag “You’re all set. Will we see you tomorrow?” she says jokingly, but this just makes Stiles blush uncontrollably.

“Yeah, definitely.” He tried to deflect with sarcasm before getting out of his chair. All three exit the back room and Stiles gives a fleeting look to Derek before leaving once again.


	3. Chapter 3

What was Stiles thinking? He found himself on this particular day with a tattoo and new ear piercings, staring at Lydia Martin incredulously inside a small bakery in downtown Beacon Hills. He’d done all this because of a Mr. Derek Hale. Stiles just needed to know that he wasn’t losing his mind or acting too stalker-ish in his pursuit to win him over. So far it wasn’t going too well. Derek had very similar traits to that of a brick wall. He’d had however managed a smile or two out of him, even if they were evoked by Stiles’ misery about being a virgin to body modifications.

Stiles swatted Lydia’s hand away from his ear piercing when she tried to examine it. “Why did you do that, Stiles? Not that it looks bad or anything, I just never thought you to be one for having metal lodged in your body.”

“It was pretty spur of the moment... I don't know what I'm doing anymore." 

Lydia raised an eyebrow at him. “Okay.” She said slowly and calmly. “Why?” She said just as elementary.

“Uhm.” There’s no reason to lie, Lydia would figure him out eventually. “Derek. Derek Hale. I like his, uh, everything.”

Lydia’s face lit up like she’s just received a five hundred dollar gift card to her favorite boutique. “Do you?” she almost purred. Her smile all of a sudden seemed more wolfish. “Interesting.”

Stiles wondered if that was the worst decision he’s ever made in his life or not. “If you could refrain from being manipulative and cryptic today that would be great. And don’t you dare tell anyone- especially him.” He gripped the edges of the table they're seated at and leaned forward “Or I will end you.”

Lydia mocked being offended. “Why Stiles, I have no idea where you’re getting that from.” She moved her hand to cover her heart. “I would never.”

Stiles knew deep down that Lydia’s good at keeping secrets. She didn’t tell a soul for two years that he favored the male gender. That’s way more than he can say for Scott. After about thirty seconds of silence passed and Lydia was just sitting there looking smug. Stiles continued to stew for a few more moments before he threw his hands up in defeat. “Okay, what?”

“I knew it.”

Stiles covered his face with his hands and lowered his head to the table. “Oh god, how obvious is it?” By now he could feel blood rushing to his face. Anatomy was good at not embarrassing him. He felt a hand snake into his hair and ruffle it up. When he lifted his head up, Lydia was looking back at him with an apologetic smile on her face.

“I’ve only seen you look at two people that way. Myself, and Mr. Danny Mahealani.” She sucked at her drink with a coy look on her face and Stiles narrowed his eyes. Danny was pretty important in the evolution of Stiles Stilinksi. After many veiled flirts about ‘being attractive to gay guys’, Danny just flat out cornered him in the locker room and kissed him. Everything just kind clicked then, because kissing girls was like kissing corn on the cob or something equally inanimate. But kissing Danny felt pretty damn magical. Derek must be even better.

“Okay fine, but it’s your turn now to tell me all about him.” Stiles settled with that as the appropriate comeback. “How do you even know him?”

She waived a dismissive hand at him. “Oh, I met him when Allison went to get a tattoo of a bow and arrow on her ankle. I just decided he was being way to quiet so I… cracked him open.” She would, that manipulative little ginger. “He doesn’t let people in easy but, I made him my personal project. Kept bugging him, and now we’re quite close.” Stiles felt a pang of jealousy. “Apparently it’s mostly because I’m a lot like his sister, Laura. I think I visit him like three times a week or so at the shop. I know he seems tough but he’s just a big softy on the inside.” As she said these words, Stiles crumpled inwards and slid down in his seat, inadvertently sucking his neck and head up in his hoodie. Noticing his discomfort, she added, “You want me to put in a good word for you?”

Stiles bounced up in his seat. “Hell to the no, Lydia. I’ve pretty much accepted that nothing’s going to happen. A guy can dream, can’t he?” He brought his hand up to his chin and rested his elbow on the table, looking dreamily into the distance.

Lydia flicked a piece of her pastry at him. “Don’t be so sure. I think he may be ready to ‘get back out there’ if you know what I mean. He hasn’t dated in like seven years. Just one night stands.” She popped a piece of the pastry in her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. On the other side of the table, however, Stiles was having an internal meltdown. He was trying to calculate the chances of this actually happening.

“Would you mind finding out if he, like totally loathes me, or? Just discreetly, please.” Stiles picked at his nails before adding, “or is it just that way with everyone? Because I got my ears pierced practically for him, dude.”

“Oh I know the answer to that one already. Trust me, he defiantly does not hate you.”

What?

WHAT?

“You talked about me?? Lydia? Lydia! AHH-“ but as he said these words she got up from the table and just walked off, no fucks given.

Stiles spent the rest of that day freaking out. He sent at least forty-five texts to Lydia that weren’t answered, took three showers to calm himself down and went to sleep still frantic.

Does Derek Hale not mind Stiles’ existence? Like it even? ‘Let’s not get too hasty’ he thinks. Stiles ends up in a book store in the general vicinity of Risky Business, looking at books with pictures of body modifications for ideas. He thirsts to know how many tattoos Derek has, and the stories behind them all. He’s even considering getting another tattoo. He slams the book shut because this obsession is getting out of control.

The urge strikes him to storm out of the book shop but then he spots Laura Hale holding a teeming stack of magazines that she looks like she could drop at any second. Stiles rushes over to her and with no questions asked, takes half of them from her arms.

“Oh, hey there.” She managed, while readjusting her newly smaller stack. “Thanks.”

“No problem, what are all these for?” Score. Conversation with the targets sister initiated. 

“Oh, were out of magazines for the waiting room at the shop. The owners of this place were friends of our parents so every so often they give us the leftovers that don’t sell.” As they’re talking they exit the bookshop and head towards Risky Business.

“Oh, that’s cool.” That’s all Stiles can think to say as they enter the shop. Of course he’d love to ask all kinds of things about Derek but suddenly he finds himself face to face with him. And he’s shirtless.

Oh holy mother Mary mother of god.

Okay, this was a sight. Derek was hanging up a poster on the far end of the shop (some sort of kick ass dragon thing, Stiles made a mental note to examine it later, but for now he was kind of busy) and Stiles had a unblocked view of the tattoos. Oh, the tattoos. His muscles rippled and disrupted them with every movement. It was very entertaining watching him smooth out the edges of the picture, get off the stool he was on, turn around…

Oh shit, turn around.

Stiles snaps his mouth shut before he starts drooling, but Derek defiantly noticed he was staring. He flashed a small smile, “Take a picture, Stiles, it will last longer.”

“I left my camera at home.” Stiles just shuts his eyes. Oh, mouth diarrhea.

He feels the weight lessening in his arms and reopens his eyes to see Derek taking the magazines from him, and he still has a smile on his face. Stiles is completely rooted to the ground and his mouth falls agape again. Stiles Stilinski incredibly is at a loss for words.

Laura walked around him and set the magazines down on a coffee table with Derek. She tried to spread them out in some sort of artistic manner, but just ends up laving them in a pile, shrugging, and walking away. Stiles waved and turned to leave when he heard, “Oh, stay a while, Stiles. We haven’t really gotten to know each other.” from Laura.

Yes, more excuses to stare at this god of a man.

Stiles gives her a friendly smile before approaching the counter. Talking to Laura is surprisingly easy, she’s actually pretty awesome. He finds out Derek is the younger sibling and their parents passed away about seven years ago, he tells them that his dad is the sheriff and he lost his mom as a kid. Neither of them pries beyond the initial statements, to avoid the conversation going from light and fun to totally depressing. Derek even joins in from time to time, and he seems amused. Occasionally someone will come in asking Laura for a piercing, leaving Derek alone with Stiles. Stiles spends a lot of time gawking at him, but Derek doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just doesn’t mind. Probably happens a lot to the guy.

No tattoos get done that day, so Stiles gets Derek all to himself, so to speak. Stiles is going to go ahead and be bold by saying their firm acquaintances now. Before he knows it, its dark outside and the shop has to close up. They make plans to continue the fun at a restaurant. They walk outside and Derek walks over to the gorgeous black Camaro Stiles may or may not have been envying since he’s been in town. Of course it’s his, of course.

Stiles slips into his powder blue jeep and follows them to a little dimly lit place that seems to sell Italian food. They’re seated in a table in a secluded corner when Laura’s phone rings.

“Hello? …What? …Oh my god, no way. …Woah. …Really? …Okay, I’m coming. …I said I’m coming!” she presses a couple of buttons on her phone as she stands up. “I’m sorry guys, but I really gotta go. I’ll see you at home Derek, and give Stiles my number. We should hang out again, bye!” And without another word, she picks up her bag and stalks away.

Holy shit.

Stiles is now sitting across from a table with Derek Hale at a dimly lit Italian restaurant.

With no one else.

He’s not prepared for this.

Derek looks as uncomfortable as Stiles feels but it’s sort of too late to leave since they already ordered. “So…” Stiles starts, “you know Lydia Martin?”

Derek seems to relax the slightest bit, “Yeah, I do. She’s uh… told me a lot about you.”

Oh dear lord. “What- like what?” Stiles almost chokes on the drink he’s been intermittently sipping.

“Like uh…” Derek smiles and looks down at his hands, “you’re the dorkiest but nicest person she knows. You’re smart as hell, loyal too.”

Stiles feels his heart swell with every word and he makes a mental note to buy Lydia a yacht later.

“And you like… tattoos on… other people.”

Never mind, he’s keeping the yacht.

“Did she now?” he nervously thrums the table. “I guess I am guilty on that last.” A ‘yes Derek Hale, I want to lick all your tattoos’ almost escapes. He looks down at his hands and fiddles with a straw wrapper. “She told me about you, too.” 

Stiles looks up to see Derek’s smile completely gone. He actually looks like a cross between nauseated, scared, and livid. “Oh.” Derek all but croaks.

“She says your kind of grumpy but that’s just your crab shell exterior and your just a mushy, sweetheart underneath.”

“…right.” Derek grits out. He’s looks a little more confused now. “Is that it?”

“Well yeah when I was talking to her she wouldn’t tell me anything and then just got up and left.” Stiles says with the help of his gangly arms. Derek relaxes a bit and a smile spreads across his lips. It’s pretty beautiful and it’s taking all of Stiles not to jump across the table and mash their faces together. “She may have also said that you didn’t hate me so, plus points.”

“What makes you think I hate you?”

“Well, dude, you didn’t exactly roll out the welcome mat whenever I came by the shop. You’re just so… severe.” Stiles doesn’t mean it harshly but Derek grits his teeth and shrugs, disappointed.

“I just… It’s hard when I meet a new person. I have-“

“Trust issues?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

The server comes by and sets two pasta dishes in front of Stiles and Derek. After a couple bites of food, Stiles decides to ask, “Why?”

Derek looks up from his plate of food with a pained expression. “I was in a bad relationship. Really, really bad.” Stiles can tell this is somewhere Derek doesn’t want to go right now so he drops it and just nods knowingly.

They sit in comfortable silence for a while until Derek just blurts, “Doyoulikehiking?”

Stiles is momentarily stunned. “Uh, what?”

Derek looks hesitant to continue. “Do you like hiking? Sometimes I like to walk around Beacon Hills Preserve. And I dunno, maybe if you wanted to, uh, come sometime-“

“Yeah, yes” Stiles says a little too fast. He coughs before adding, “Yeah, that sounds great.”

Derek smiles and leans back in his chair. “Cool, tomorrow? The shop’s closed on Sundays.”

“Yeah.”

They finish their meal and Derek pays. What a gentleman. They part ways in the parking lot, Sties still feeling giddy. Derek pulls away in the Camaro and Stiles stands next to his jeep for a few moments before uncontrollably dancing to no music and climbing inside. He sits and messes with his phone for a minute, marveling at the two new numbers named ‘Derek’ and ‘Laura’. With a sigh he drives home. His father’s police cruiser is in the driveway so he creeps in the house quietly so as to not wake him up.

Stiles is startled to find his dad sitting in the living room watching TV, wide awake. “Oh, hey dad!” he says with an uncontrollable smile.

The sheriff looks up from the TV, “Hey, kid. What are you so happy about?”

Stiles walks into the house more and does a little turn before singing, “I’m in looovee!” and walking towards his room. He vaguely hears his dad mutter, ‘great’ from the couch.

Once in his bedroom he pulls up Skype on his computer and… score! Lydia’s online.

“Hey girl.” He coos when her image pops up on screen.

“Hi, Stiles, how’d your little rendezvous go?” she gives him a smug grin.

“How’d you know about that??” Stiles pales a little. He hears a rustling in the background on Lydia’s end and Laura enters his line of vision. “Son of a bitch. You called her away? I hate you both.”

“You love us!” They say simultaneously. Okay, true. Lydia's the greatest friend ever.

Maybe you will get a yacht after all.


	4. Chapter 4

Doubt is not an uncommon feeling for Stiles to have. It’s not new for him to be let down or hurt, so naturally he is hesitant to go hang out with Derek. What if he’s just messing with him? It certainly would not be the first time. Towards the end of senior year, Stiles asked Greenberg- true story- out and he’d enthusiastically agreed, but had stood Stiles up as a joke. Fucking Greenberg.

Stiles still can’t shake the feeling that Derek is a similar case. He’d confessed to him earlier about having ‘trust issues’. And Stiles is trying to be convinced that his tattoo-crested-lobster-shell-exterior is just a security blanket masking something deeper and more sensitive. A small morsel of hope had simmered underneath all the hesitation and urged Stiles to go to Beacon Hills’ Reserve and seek out Derek.

He woke up and awkwardly stumbled into the bathroom half-hard. He did his usual showering, teeth brushing, and jerking-off, but took extra time and care with each task. He cleaned his ears, under all his nails and shaved. You never know what could happen.

When he decided that he was groomed to a satisfactory level, he bid his father farewell and drove the familiar route to the preserve. He and Scott had gone there many-a-time to set off fireworks or mess around at the abandoned house. He pulled up to the edge of the woods, and couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his face when he saw the black Camaro. 

He got out of his jeep and a cold gust of wind met him, forcing Stiles to zip his hoodie up. Leaves levitated off the ground and swirled into each other like small transparent tornados. In the commotion he squinted his eyes, searching for Derek, but he was nowhere to be seen. Stiles was briefly confused, but then overcome with terror when a strong hand claps him on the shoulder.

Stiles jumped and spun around to find a sheepish-looking Derek wearing a gorgeous leather jacket over a tight maroon v-neck and dark gray jeans. “Hey.” he offers, more to the ground than to Stiles.

Relief floods Stiles face along with a light blush because it’s always good to know that you’re not under attack. “Heyy.” he replies breathlessly. He may or may not sway slightly because Derek makes him weak in the knees, especially when he looks this good. Which is all the time.

Derek crosses Stiles and applies light pressure to his elbow in order to usher him along. Stiles complied and found a way to get his feet moving. They enter the forest and are instantly hit with the stagnant air, the trees lined up like barriers between them and the gushing wind of the day. The moment’s kind of nice, and Stiles takes the time to realize how it feels like time stool still, just for them.

They walk in silence for about three minutes until Stiles could’t take it anymore. “So, do we have a game plan or are we just gonna… saunter for a while? Which is totally cool, I mean. I’m defiantly one for sauntering-“ 

Derek gave him a meaningful look. “I want to show you something.”

In the woods? Stiles takes a second to think about how he knows nothing about this guy, and he could totally be a really hot serial killer. What a way to go.

They continue into the depth of trees and branches, casting respective shadows on the ground that are delicate as paintings, only to be disturbed by the crunching footsteps of the boys. Eventually a house comes into view, which Stiles recognizes as the old house he and Scott used to play hide and seek in, among other things. It’s always been a secret fantasy of Stiles’ to be taken here and kissed breathless by some sort of dashing, tall, man. Derek fits the quota, and thinking about it invites a blush to smear across Stiles’ features. He should focus.

The house is a medium gray pretty much all around, with broken panes of glass littering the exterior walls and scorch marks licking up towards the sky. The air is solemn and still, but Stiles could remember a time where air whistled throughout the house, inviting the doors to creak open and shut on their rusty hinges. 

Stiles and Derek stood side by side in front of the large house. Their shoulders brush and it sends a shiver down Stiles’ spine. Derek looked stoic again, staring at the huge house with a faint veil of nostalgia and remorse masking his features. His adams’ apple bobs up and down and he grinds his teeth together, causing his jaw to jut out and his temples to push against the skin of his forehead. He turned to face Stiles before directing his gaze to the leaves scattering the forest floor.

Stiles furrowed his brow as he gazed wordlessly at Derek. Usually, he would say something but Derek seems like he’s having… a moment. Instead, he reenacted something Derek had done to him the first day they met, but hopefully with more finesse. He gently placed his hand on Derek’s shoulder, and when he didn’t flinch away from the contact, rubbed small reassuring circles with his thumb. “You okay?” he tried.

“I, uh” Derek clears his throat to prevent squeaking “This is-was my… home.”

Stiles’ thumb stills as he realized what Derek said. Had he seen Scott and him messing around here before? Desecrating what was obviously very meaningful to him?

He’ll just deny everything, that usually works.

“What happened?” Stiles knows that the house caught fire and that his family is mostly dead, but he figures- or just hopes- that Derek might feel better if he talks about it and, although this is not the goal right now, eventually start trusting Stiles. He needs Derek to trust him.

Derek’s breath hitches slightly in his throat. His eyes are not wet, but he looks wrecked. “I was 16 years old. Laura was at a friend’s house when it happened, and I was out. Peter, he-“ he kicked a pinecone at his feet, “he was the only one who made it out alive. My mother and father were in there, along with Peter’s then current girlfriend, my aunt and her husband, and five cousins. And uh… my little sister.” Derek looked at the house like it was burning him, and he kept his gaze there until it hurt too much to continue, before whipping his head around to face Stiles. “And it’s all my fault.”

Stiles dropped his hand from Derek’s shoulder. “No.” He was in utter disbelief, how could he possibly blame himself? “No, Derek. You, you-“

“Stiles. I know we just met, but, I think it’s best you know this now. So, if you still want- I don’t know, shit.” Derek ran his hands through his hair and messed it up.

“Do you think I’m gonna run away?” Stiles asks incredulously and took a step closer to him. “This is not, cannot, be your fault.” Stiles took hold of one of Derek’s tattoo encircled wrists and pulled him down to sit next to him on the porch. Derek obeyed silently. “Just, tell me what happened.”

Stiles and Derek spend the next twenty minutes sitting on the porch of the Hale house talking about a woman named Kate. Derek sounds more and more detached from the conversation by the end, he never got angry or sad, just… lost. Kate Argent was a woman about six years older than Derek, whom in his rebellious youth, had met at a bar just outside Beacon Hills. He thought he liked her, loved her maybe. But something just wasn't right.

One night, Derek got drunk and found some stranger near a club. One thing led to another, and Kate found Derek and this man he couldn’t even remember the name of in a motel room, Kate and Derek had used several times previous. She fell into a jealous rage, before something seemed to snap in her mind and she walked blankly out of the room. That very night she went to the Hale house and tossed a lit cigarette through the window of the sleeping household.

Come to find out, Kate had a history of mental problems, including schizophrenia. She was convicted quickly, but tried to kill herself the first night in holding by jumping off the top bunk and slamming her head into a sink. She later died in a hospital for the criminally insane.

Derek blamed himself for betraying her, and betraying his family. At that time he had already snuck a tattoo or two without his parents’ permission and experimented with various drugs. His parents were worried for him, and he never got a chance to grow out of his phase and let his parents know that he wasn’t all bad, he was just a kid. He was just confused. But now they’re dead and they never got to know how much he loved them. He regrets that night every day.

Stiles sat with his legs crossed on the porch facing Derek, and slightly touched the side of the dark haired man's knee to get him to turn and face him. Once situated, Stiles could see that Derek’s eyes were dull and hopeless. Stiles tilted his head forward and closed the gap between them, resting his forehead against the other's. They sat that way for quite a while, Stiles feeling every shuddering breath from Derek ghost across his face in conjunction with the once absent wind starting to pick up and dance around them, making the house wheeze and groan.

“I still don’t think it’s your fault. You can't blame yourself.” Stiles whispered after an eternity of silence. It seems so intimate a position for two people who met a few days ago, but at the same time it feels right. Stiles for once is not feeling awkward or overly hesitant. His fingers once again encircled Derek’s wrist and he pulled both hands into his lap. He ran his fingers softly down the skin, tracing each unique tattoo. Derek was submissive to the contact and just watched Stiles’ long fingers go about their work.

“Thank you.” Derek said, moments later, even quieter than Stiles. 

Stiles felt a drop of water fall onto his and Derek’s hands and for a moment he thought Derek was crying, but it turns out that soft rain was beginning to cascade through the trees. Derek looked up warily and back at Stiles before giving him a small grin. “I guess we’d better get out of here.” Even though he’s smiling, it’s the saddest smile Stiles has seen in a while.

Stiles stood up slowly and offered a hand to Derek, who took it and stood himself. He spared one last solemn glance at the house before Stiles gave him a small tug and a quiet ‘come on’. After walking for a few minutes, Stiles realized that he was still holding Derek’s hand.

Oh shit. ‘Should I let go?’ he thought. Derek didn’t seem disturbed so he even dared to lace their fingers together.

Stiles is a risk taker.

Derek took one look at their hands, as if he just noticed them too, before looking forward once more. Stiles caught the small smile present on his face before it disappeared and is replaced by his usual hard expression. 

They make it to the edge of the woods where their cars were residing and Stiles finally released Derek’s hand to get his keys out of his pocket. “So, where to now?”

Derek gazed out onto the long stretch of empty road that’s starting to blacken in color from the rain ricocheting of the ground. “I don’t know, if you want to maybe, come to my place or-?

Stiles eyes widen. Derek’s place? As in his dwelling? Home? Place with a roof... and a bed? 

“Uh, yeah.” Stiles trieds to remain cool, how does Derek do it? “That’d be cool. I’ll follow you?” As much as Stiles would love to slip into Derek’s Camaro and fulfill his fantasy of climbing over the threshold between seats and onto Derek’s lap- he can’t just leave his baby out by the woods in the rain.

Derek nodded curtly and climbed into his car. Stiles mimicked that and climbed into his jeep. The ride is painfully long for Stiles, but they end up in a small apartment complex about ten minutes away from Risky Business.

The rain had really picked up and when Stiles climbed out of his jeep he noticed just how long Derek’s hair is, nearly plastered to his head, with tendrils trailing down his face like black ink in contrast with his tan skin. The water rolled down, raindrops having silent races to cover every surface and crevice of the man. Stiles noticed that Derek had a piece of hair tucked into the corner of his mouth and he desperately wants to comb it out of the way with his fingers, and stealthily leave his hand there to trace the stubble on his jaw-

Stiles didn’t even realize he was staring until Derek shyly wrapped his leather jacket around himself tighter and turned towards the building. “Coming?” he said over the rain.

Stiles squinted through the sheets of rain falling above them. “Yep.” 

The men hurried inside and up to Derek’s room. Once the door was closed, they took one look at each other’s soaked forms and grin.


	5. Chapter 5

Derek’s place was awesome in its own little way. It was pretty much exactly what Stiles expected and fit Derek's personality pretty well. The building he lived in was old and the cream-colored stucco on the walls had chipped off in places, exposing large expanses of dark red brick wall, that Derek had littered with posters, paintings, and what looked like original artwork. It was all open floor plan, besides two doors that were later revealed to him as the bathroom and closet. A king sized bed with bright white sheets finds its way in the corner by a large window with billowing sheer, white curtains in the same room as a leather chair and cozy-looking brown couch. 

There were beams exposed from the ceiling and small shelves in artistic clumps scattered the walls. In another corner, closer to the kitchenette area, he sees a modern drafting table with a lamp and hundreds of different pencils, markers, paint and more tossed into clear bins.

If Stiles was an artist, he’d be in heaven right now. But he’s going to school to become a financial advisor, so…

Derek had Stiles sit on the couch while he went into the kitchen. He heard the rustling of bags and the slow gurgle of a coffee maker. Stiles pulled out his phone to check the time. 

6:44

They were in the preserve for over five hours. Stiles then realized how hungry he was, but the beautiful man reenters the room clutching a bowl of Reese’s mini cups. 

“You are perfect. I’ve decided. It’s a fact now.” Stiles said when Derek handed him the bowl and he wolfed one down. Derek watched him in acute fascination before shaking his head and smiling. He headed back to the kitchen and retrieved the coffee and brought out two mugs and set them on the coffee table.

Stiles fought not to chug his as greedily as he wants to despite its scalding temperature. He’s a gentleman, dammit. A shiver ripped through his body when Derek sat down next to him, causing a wave of cool air to crawl across his still-wet skin. Derek apparently got the same sensation because he stood up again and headed toward the bathroom. “Want some clothes?” he called over his shoulder. Stiles stood up and followed him awkwardly. He didn’t really want to ruin Derek’s furniture with his sopping wet ensemble, so when Derek looked back at him, he nodded eagerly.

“Thanks.”

Derek fished out a green tee shirt, some sweat pants and a towel from the closet and handed them to Stiles. Stiles slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind himself. When he looked in the mirror, he saw his own hair bent in awkward directions around his face. He took the towel and scrubbed away the water before peeling himself out of his clothes. Thankfully his boxers remained dry.

He slipped into Derek’s warm, soft clothes and examined the flush inevitably sneaking up under his skin from the excitement of the situation. He’s in Derek’s house. In Derek’s clothes. This is the best day ever. 

He opened the door slowly to see Derek all changed and sitting on his bed with his legs crossed. He was wearing plaid pajama pants and a thin gray tee shirt. Stiles approached him warily and climbed up on the bed without invitation, but Derek didn’t seem to mind.

After a minute of comfortable silence, Stiles leaned his head on Derek’s shoulder. Derek tensed up for a second before becoming a bit more relaxed. Stiles sneaked his hand up one of Derek’s sleeves to reveal a tattoo of what looks like a dragon eating its own tail in an endless circle. Derek’s skin is cold, and Stiles attempts to warm it are fairly useless since he’s almost colder. He traced the tattoo with his pointer finger lightly, “What’s this one?”

Derek leaned into Stiles’ touch and glanced at the tattoo. “It’s an Ouroboros, a symbol for eternal life.” 

Derek seemed to like the contact, so Stiles decideed to try and push his luck further. He pulled the sleeve back down and crawled around behind Derek. He set his knees gently in line with Derek’s hips and sits down. This could potentially be a very bad idea. He sneaked his hands underneath the hem of Derek’s shirt and pulled it up over his head, while Derek just… lets him.

Awesome.

Stiles pressed his hands over Derek’s back and splayed his fingers, experimenting with what it would look like with or without some tattoos. He rubbed Derek’s back for a few minutes, trying to locate his favorite piece of art, and Derek’s head lolled forward and he hummed his approval.

Stiles was constantly drawn to perhaps the simplest one just under the center of his neck. He traced the three interconnecting spirals and Derek nearly purred. “And this one?” Stiles is enjoying himself immensely.

“That was my first one, a triskele. It’s any three things that just, go together in the universe.”

“What’s it mean to you?”  
“Past, present, and future.”

Stiles’ hands drifted from Derek’s neck down to the sides of his ribcage and then to his hips.

‘I can do this.’ Woo Derek Hale is still in action, and it’s time to get the ball rolling faster.

Stiles pressed a soft kiss to the triskele, his favorite tattoo, and tentatively waited for Derek’s reaction. When Derek’s head rolled back with a hum to rest on Stiles’ shoulder, exposing his neck, he begins to create a trail of small kisses and nips towards Derek’s neck. There was a tattoo of a wolf there and as he gives it some special attention with slow gentle kisses he asked in what he hoped was a low, husky voice, “And this one?” 

Derek’s voice came back to Stiles’ ear absolutely wrecked. “I got that with Laura. Wolves are our… favorite… animals.” his breath shaky and irregular.

Stiles crawled around to the front of Derek, whom he is pleased to find out is also half-hard, and gently readjusted the older man's legs to he could sit on his lap. When Stiles continued to plant wet- open mouthed kisses to Derek’s neck and chest, Derek cupped his face and kissed Stiles lips.

Derek’s stubble grazed Stiles' smoother skin, causing it to burn slightly, but he’s not complaining. Not one bit. He felt Derek’s arms encircle Stiles' waist and his fingers splay between his shoulder blades and small of his back, pressing the two impossibly closer. 

Stiles’ arms curl around Derek’s neck and scratch at his back as they start to rock. Derek’s legs straighten out and spread underneath Stiles, allowing Stiles to climb to his knees between them and push Derek back onto the pillows. 

They’re breaths became more short, sudden and hungry. Stiles climbed back on top of Derek and they curled their legs together. One of Derek’s hands comes up behind Stiles' head and curls itself into the short hairs at the base of his neck with the other grips the sheets. Stiles bucked his hips down onto Derek’s, and he reciprocated by thrusting his up. The contact sends spikes of pleasure up through his body and down to his toes.

Stiles pushed up into a sitting position and fumbled with removing his shirt. Once it was off, he spares a look at Derek who was staring at him ravenously from below. His features are darkened and his breath came out in jagged huffs. Stiles might lose it right now.

Derek grabbed Stiles’ wrists and dragged him down beside him before straddling his waist and pinning his hands above his head. Derek trailed his tongue from Stiles' collar bone down to the patch of hair beneath his navel and back up. Stiles moaned appreciatively and brought his hips up underneath him. Derek dug his hands into Stiles hips enough to extract a cry from Stiles and steady him. 

Derek all at once stopped and looked at Stiles with this… look. Is that regret? Shit, it is.

“What? What’s wrong?” Stiles panted. He goes limp suddenly and wondered if Derek could tell that he’d never really done this before. “Is it me- look, I know I’m probably not gonna be that good but-“

Derek silenced him by pressing a soft, languid kiss to Stiles' lips. “You’ll be perfect. I just- I just don’t want to mess this up by going too fast.”

‘Aww. That’s kind of beautiful. But it kind of also sucks.’ Stiles thought and then deflated. Derek moved and let him up, the awkward pressure in his sweatpants not beginning to lessen. “Oh.”

“Sorry, I do want this. Just not yet.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Stiles grabbed his shirt, disappointed and excused himself to the bathroom. He reemerged a short while later, finding Derek sitting under the covers of the bed, with the other side open, changing through the channels of the TV adjacent.

Stiles rubbed his face in a failed attempt to rid it of any remaining flush and crawled back into bed next to Derek. He assumed its fair that since they didn’t have much sexy- time, there should at least be cuddling involved. Stiles is a master cuddler, there is likely none finer.

He inched closer to Derek and wrapped his arm around the man’s waist and set his head down on his chest. Derek’s arm curled around Stiles’ back and rested on his waist.

They end up watching the Discovery Channel for nearly two hours before Derek leaned over and pressed a kiss to Stiles’ hair. “Thanks for listening, earlier.” is all he said before he dozed off. In response, Stiles just squeezes tighter and buries his face into Derek’s side. He falls asleep somewhere between one breath and the next.

Stiles woke up to an empty bed. His clothes from the day previous seem to have been washed, dried and folded up on the end of the bed with a small note on top. Stiles crawled over to it, only flailing a little bit when the sheet twisted around his ankle. 

Stiles,

I went to the shop at 8 to open. Come swing by there later? I’d like to see you. Help yourself to whatever you need.

-Derek

X

A kiss! A silly grin spreads across Stiles’ face that he fears may never leave even as he makes the bed, takes a shower, dresses and leaves. He called his father and to let him know that he stayed at a friend’s house the night before, and he’ll let him know where he’ll be tonight.

He pulled up next to Derek’s car and headed into Risky Business. Peter is behind the counter today, and he smiled a cross of warm and creepy at Stiles. “Hey, Peter.” He waved warily at him and scoped the room. He didn’t see Derek or Laura, but he did see that the poster Derek hung the other day was of an Ouroboros, not ass kick-ass as Derek’s tattoo, but still.

“Looking for Derek?” Peter raised his eyebrows. “Lover boy’s in the back.”

“I- uh, what- what did he tell you?” Stiles blanched.

“Chill out, Stiles. Nothing at all. But you’ve confirmed my suspicions. He looked way too happy this morning.” Peter smirked to himself and leaned back against the wall behind the counter. “You can go in if you want.”

Stiles nodded and quickly entered the back room, eager to leave Peter. He was just standing in the hallway trying to act cool when Laura entered his line of vision. 

She scowled at him, and Stiles swore he could see the hallways of lava in her eyes. She dropped the box of sterile gloves she was holding, and pinned him to the wall. “What did you do to my brother?” She growled, low and terrifying.

“I- what?” Stiles’ heartbeat quickened, he'd never been more confused in his life. Laura’s face was just inches from his own, and if anyone could suck the soul out of someone’s mouth it was her.

Her scowl was quickly replaced with a warm smile and all of a sudden he’s being hugged. “Huh?” he managed.

“Thank you.” she said into his neck before releasing him. Her face is soft and grateful. “He hasn’t looked so… peaceful since…” Stiles nods, he knew exactly what she meant. 

Life is good.


	6. Chapter 6

Derek was sketching in a small book when Stiles found him. He knocked on the threshold before entering the room. Derek’s head snapped up and he stored the book in his front pocket. He stood and walked over to Stiles. Once they were toe to toe, Stiles pressed a kiss to the corner of Derek’s mouth. Derek brought his hand up to cup Stiles’ face and traced his thumb along the younger man's lips. They were just standing there, absorbing each other, when he heard Peter yell, “Derek!”

“Ahh. Tattoos.” Derek mumbled into Stiles’ mouth before giving Stiles a final, slow, kiss, and retreating out of the room. Stiles followed him a moment later, freshly flushed and found Derek surrounded by some young women that are just ogling at him. Derek looked immensely uncomfortable as the three girls showed him pictures, wrote things down and just giggled. Oh, the giggling.

Derek looked up from what he was writing and his eyes landed on Stiles. The look he gave him just said, ‘oh god, help me.’ Stiles laughed to himself but didn’t do anything until he saw one of the girls write something down on a piece of paper, fold it up, lean over the counter and slip it into Derek’s back pocket. And- how dare she- there was an ass-slap involved.

Hell-to-the-no.

Derek's eyes widened at the advance. He looked at her incredulously for a moment and smiled awkwardly. "No thanks miss, I'm good with this guy." Derek smiled at Stiles and beckoned him over. 

Stiles slipped behind the counter and looped his arm around Derek’s waist. The smiles quickly faded from the ladies’ faces, making the situation just so… priceless. Stiles just smiled the whole time and they began talking business again. Eventually, he very blatantly reached around Derek and fished the note out of his pocket and slid it back to the offender. She took it back and gave Stiles a dirty look. He just shrugged.

When they’d gone, Derek got a sketchbook out and began to draw out the tattoo one of the girls requested. Stiles just stared, fascinated at what a good artist Derek was. Derek seemed to really appreciate Stiles feedback, too.

Before they know it, the day has come and gone, Derek got another quick tattoo request to sketch out, and Laura got swamped with piercings. Peter and Laura go early, leaving Derek to close up shop.

The parking lot air is cold and breezy, causing Stiles to zip up his red hoodie. He feels a warmth descend on his shoulders and back and turns his head to see Derek draping his leather jacket on the younger man. Stiles blushed and pulled the jacket tighter around himself. Derek, still behind him wrapped his arms around Stiles waist and set his head on his shoulder. 

“Thanks.” Stiles breathed, his breath cascading out of his mouth in a small steamy billow towards the night sky. Derek hummed into his neck, sending a vibration through his body.

Derek began to press soft kisses to the curve of his neck, working his way up and nibbling on his ear. He licked a line on the outer shell of his ear and blew cold air across the moistened skin, causing Stiles’ toes to curl in his black converse.

“When do you have to go back to school?” Derek murmured. Stiles remembered telling Derek and Laura about college, but he hadn’t thought about how he had to go back soon. 

“Mmm, I don’t wanna…” he manages to say between Derek’s light nibbles on his earlobe, keeping a safe distance from the metal.

“Seriously, Stiles.”

“Wednesday.” Stiles groaned. He turned to face Derek with a pout. “But then I only have two weeks left until I’m done.” 

Derek’s hands curled around the lapels of the leather jacket and pull them closer together. Their mouths meet in a slow kiss that quickly builds intensity. Derek’s tongue trailed across Stiles’ lips, pleading for entrance that Stiles granted. Derek’s tongue scraped the roof of Stiles’ mouth, causing him to giggle, and hooked underneath his top lip, sucking slowly. 

“Okay.” Derek breathed into the other's slack mouth. Stiles shivered from the loss of warmth when Derek pulled back. Stiles mouth was red and swollen and Derek, proud of his work, dragged his thumb across the shorter man's lips. “Okay.”

Derek took a step back and Stiles rocked awkwardly on his heels under his gaze. He looked as if he was contemplating something. After a moment, Stiles raised his arms in defeat, “What?”

“I was just thinking, I think Peter may be right about something.”

“Huh?”

Derek grabbed Stiles’ hand and lugged him back into the shop.

**

Stiles fussed with his tongue ring. It has satiated his oral fixation for the past day and a half after Derek did it for him. Peter was grumpy, but he’ll get over it eventually, right?

At the airport, Stiles couldn’t help but think about what his classmates are going to think of his new developments when he got back. He hadn’t even been gone a full week and he’d acquired ear piercings, a tongue piercing, and a tattoo. He stuck his fingers between his teeth to twist the metal ball, but Derek’s hand caught his wrist.

Lovely Derek that came with him to the airport.

“If you keep messing with it, literally nothing good will happen.” He stated.

Stiles shoved his hands into his lap and stared at the man. His leg started thumping up and down and Derek put his hand on the younger man’s knee to steady him. “Are you gonna be okay, Stiles?”

“I tont slike flynng, Darek.” 

Derek smiled a kind and genuine smile, with both pity and humor in his eyes. Stiles scowled at him.

“That’s adorable.”

Whatever. His lisp would go away in a couple days when he switched out his ring, so the next time he saw Derek, he would be back to his… eloquent… self.

Stiles punched Derek in the arm knowing full well it wouldn’t hurt him and stood from the row of waiting chairs they were stationed in. Stiles had spent as much time as possible with his… person? Certainly not boyfriend, yet. But it was time to go through the horrendous security process so that the airport could determine that this boy’s only weapon was sarcasm, and board the plane.

Derek got up and wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist, while Stiles’ arms encircled his neck. Derek kissed his cheek and they bid farewell.

**

The end of the semester passed agonizingly slow and Stiles was elated to go home. He’d always had the plan that after college, he was going to move back permanently to Beacon Hills. His dad agreed to let him live in his house until he found his own apartment. 

Derek had kept him busy. Stiles’ constantly texted the poor man, they talked about interesting tattoos Derek had to do, Stiles complained about schoolwork, and they generally got to know each other a lot more.

Derek was there to pick Stiles up at the airport, the saint. Stiles grinned, and all but ran over into his awaiting arms. Stiles kind of really wanted Derek to pick him up and spin around, but he’s content to wait on that for a more serious and long-awaited reunion. Stiles breathed in the sweet smell of pure Derek and buried his head into the crook of the older man’s neck. He hadn’t realized how much he missed him until this moment and pulled away, shocked at his clinginess. He offered a shy smile and Derek looked equally relieved. They exchanged breathless ‘hello’s’ before lacing their fingers together and heading back into town.

Stiles thought that they were headed to the Sherriff’s house, but was also content when Derek continued on to the apartment by Risky Business. Once up in the cozy room, Derek nuzzled into Stiles’ neck. Stiles immediately felt self-conscious, “Uh, Derek? Can I get this airport smell off me?”

Derek released him, “Of, course.” His expression was reserved but his eyes were dark- almost dangerous. Derek stalked over to the closet and pulled out a towel. The younger man followed, took the towel and slipped into the bathroom.

He turned the water on and shrugged out of his clothes, leaving then in a semi- neat pile in the corner. He stepped under the spray of water and immediately felt better. He heard the door creak open and shut and his heartbeat quickened. He heard the dull thud of clothes hitting the ground and the corner of the shower curtain opened to reveal Derek in all his glory. If Stiles thought Derek was a sex god before…

Stiles straightened up and turned his back to Derek as he entered the shower. How could he compare? With all his non- existent muscles and porcelain skin. He felt warm hands smooth down his back and he shuddered.

Derek fit in under the spray with Stiles and wordlessly joined him. The suds already existing on Stiles found their way onto Derek’s body as they leaned into one another. 

‘Well, now I can check this off my bucket list’ Stiles thought as Derek’s hands cascaded around his waist and down the front of his thighs with the soap lessening the friction. Stiles pressed his back into Derek and was surprised to feel hardness that matched his own. 

Derek grumbled slightly at the touch and brought his hands up to coast over Stiles’ nipples, before planting kisses on the back of his neck. Stiles felt Derek’s tongue ghost over his tattoo and attempted to stifle his moan. He could see why Derek liked it so much. 

Stiles turned around to see Derek’s features looking dark and predatory. He captured his lips in his own, savoring the moment. Derek’s hands pressed onto the wall on either side of Stiles’ head and deepened the kiss. There was a lot behind the kiss; it wasn’t rushed as much as it was making up for lost time.

“I missed you.” Stiles said in Derek’s ear when they parted. Derek smiled against Stiles’ neck and nibbled down to his collar bone. Derek’s head was going further and further southward, and Stiles stiffened and jerked when he felt Derek’s hands curl around his hips and press blunt nails into the skin. 

Stiles curled his fingers into Derek’s hair as the older man teased him. Derek’s hand encircled Stiles’ throbbing cock and began to gently stroke. Stiles inadvertently thrusted into Derek’s hand, but Derek held firm, dead set on dragging this out. It wasn’t long before Stiles was coming hard, the evidence quickly being washed away at the spray of water.

Derek turned his attention to his own cock as Stiles was coming down from his orgasm. As soon as he realized what Derek was doing he swatted his hand out of the way and got down on his knees.

Stiles licked the head of Derek’s cock before taking as much as he could into his mouth, letting his tongue ring coast against the underside of the organ. Derek moaned and curled his toes in pleasure as Stiles went about his work. Stiles’ hummed and Derek jerked forward into his mouth. Derek was huge and he struggled not to choke when swallowing Derek’s come. It was all worth it to hear the low growl emit from deep within the man at his climax.

Stiles stood and kissed the man once more, taking note of his half- lidded eyes and lips parted in exasperation. “I missed you, too” Derek breathed airily.


	7. Chapter 7

It was nearing Christmas now, and the cold air stung the faces of the Beacon Hills residents. The trees were barren and dead, but inside the lives of the people there was so much warmth and love for the season. Stiles had been staying with is dad, still, but eyeing an apartment in the downtown area. He was hoping to make his purchase when the season passes.

He visited Derek most days, either at Risky Business or coming to his house and spending the night after work. There was still no sex though, and the wait was agonizing for Stiles. He was pretty sure it’s dangerous to keep this all pent up.

Stiles and Derek both had private parties reserved for their respective families apart, but on Christmas eve-eve , Stiles liked to call it, Stiles was invited to Derek’s place. It was a lot more formal than any invitation for the past four months, so Stiles got himself spiffy.

His hair had grown out longer since high school, so he washed it and spiked it up accordingly, it wasn’t Derek’s gravity- defying hairstyle, but it’ll do. He picked out a maroon button down that he wore with a black tie and dark jeans- he didn’t want to be too formal. Once he decided everything was A- okay, he made his way over to Derek’s flat.

When he knocked on the door, Derek answered wearing a cream colored sweater and dark pants. He looked slightly overwhelmed, Stiles guessed it was because he was a sweater virgin and he begged Derek to wear one.

Sweater hugs are nice, okay?

So Stiles seized one, it was soft and perfect. Derek was still a wall of rippling muscle, but he was padded slightly by a layer of yarn and fuzz. He smelled like gingerbread too. Derek moved slightly to let Stiles in, looking worried and stiff. Stiles punched him lightly in the shoulder. “You, okay?”

Derek nodded hastily as Stiles scanned the place. It looked way different than his last visit. White Christmas lights spanned across the beams on the ceiling and around the window. There were candles occasionally littering surfaces, and even though the main lights were off, the place was littered with dim whispers of light. Stiles told Derek that he loved indoor Christmas lights and that he should get some. Stiles turned around to look at the man.

It meant so much to him that Derek listened. Not just about Christmas lights, but to everything he says. Stiles has never flat-out told Derek that he loves him, but the feeling has become more and more evident as the weeks pass. Derek still looked like he smelled something off, so Stiles pushed the door shut behind him and pressed their lips together. It was long and slow, and Stiles tried to communicate all he was thinking into the kiss. When he pulled away, Derek looked a lot more relaxed. “Thank you.” Stiles whispered.

Derek smiled, relief flooding his face with a fresh blush. Stiles loved that he could make Derek blush just as easily as Derek could make him blush, even after all this time. “That’s not all.” Derek said.

Stiles immediately felt uncomfortable, he didn’t really bring a present, but he sensed material things were about to be exchanged.

Derek stalked off to the couch and Stiles followed. Derek didn’t immediately get out whatever present he was talking about. Instead, they sat on the couch and drank hot chocolate, immersed in each other’s childhood Christmas stories. Stiles wished the moment could last forever.

It neared 11:30, but neither of the men felt a lick of drowsiness. It seemed that there was no reason to sleep, when something so great was happening while they were awake.

“Ow.” Derek winced.

“No, it’s true, I had to get, like, five stitches.” Stiles laughed.

Derek stared at Stiles for a moment with adoration in his eyes, before reaching in his pocket and pulling out the small brown notebook Stiles had seen a few times months before. Derek never actually let him see what was inside. Stiles bubbled with excitement just looking at it, thinking he was finally going to know what was inside. The men faced each other on the couch, sitting Indian style.

“I- uh.” Derek blushed, “I drew something out that I was thinking of getting done. Can you tell me what you think?” Derek returned to looking uncomfortable as he flicked through a couple pages and gently handed the book to Stiles.

In it was a lovely scripted word in black and white paired with encircling cascading designs that were both elegant and sophisticated. It didn’t look feminine, but it wasn’t entirely virile either. Stiles definitely liked the tattoo, but it was the word- name- that was written that really struck a chord.

Stiles.

He audibly gasped and wetness threatened to pool in his eyes. Derek may have a hundred tattoos, but Stiles knows how well each one was thought out and how much they all mean to him. He looked up with his lips parted slightly, unable to close his mouth. Derek’s head was facing down and he looked at Stiles through his lashes. Stiles leaned in, pressing their foreheads together.

“I love it.” A beat. “I love you.”

Derek grinned, wide and silly at the man, before pressing their lips together. “I love you so much, Stiles.”

Not wanting to cheapen the moment, the two men leaned back, feeling the arousal creep up on then. Stiles is not entirely sure who moved first, but suddenly there was a crashing of bodies, panting, kissing, begging.

Derek lifted Stiles off the couch and the younger man’s legs wrapped around his waist as they stalked over to the bed, still connected by the mouth. Derek set Stiles down gently and stood in the space between his legs. He pulled his sweater over his head as Stiles fussed with his tie and dress shirt. Derek must be some sort of professional because he moved to kiss Stiles neck while calmly and skillfully removing Stiles clothes.

Derek pushed Stiles up the bed further and crawled on top of him. He fit his legs on either side of one of Stiles’ and began to suck a hickey onto the younger man’s throat. Stiles moaned and arched up into the other man. Stiles scratched and scraped at Derek’s back, digging into the artwork. The men take a break from marking each other to remove their pants, instantly alleviating the pressure caused by tight denim.

Stiles instinctively spreads his legs underneath Derek, while he pushes his hips up and brushed their erections together. Derek reached above Stiles’ head to grab some pillows, putting two under the man’s hips. He climbed off Stiles and fumbled for something in the bed side drawer. Stiles groansed at the loss of contact but was satiated once more when Derek covered him once more and they tessellated perfectly.

Derek got on his knees in between Stiles’ legs and nipped at the skin of his inner thigh. Stiles squirms and panted, squeezing at the sheets so hard he felt they might tear. He didn’t care though, hell, he’ll buy new ones if Derek hurries the fuck up.

Derek was a tease, but he’s not so cruel as to not sense how much Stiles needed this. He popped the cap off the lubricant one-handedly, and slicked a finger. He pressed it into Stiles gently, who, after getting over the initial discomfort, pushes down onto it.

“Another.” He growled.

Derek is obedient and pressed another into Stiles’ entrance, before slowly working his fingers apart and stretching Stiles. Stiles winced and groaned, but it’s not unbearable. After Derek inserted a third finger he said, “Fuck, Stiles, you’re so tight.”

Stiles pressed back down onto Derek’s hand, ready. “Now.” he breathed.

Derek slicked his cock with lube and lines up. He glanced at Stiles, who looks breathless and impatient. 

Derek leaned in to kiss Stiles’ before pushing in slowly. Stiles gasped and winced at the pain. “Are you okay?” Derek asked, concerned.

“Yeah, yeah, c’mon. I’m good.” It was uncomfortable as hell, but the pleasure well outweighed the pain. “I’m great actually.”

Derek pressed the rest of the way in, filling Stiles. The younger man wrapped his legs around Derek’s back, making it easier for them to rock together. Derek pulled out slightly before pushing back in slowly. He eventually picked up the pace as Stiles began to feel more comfortable. 

“You have no idea... how much I’ve wanted this... Needed this.” Derek said lowly in Stiles’ ear. Stiles’ toes curled in pleasure at the words and he pushed up farther onto Derek’s cock, which in turn pressed against his prostate, making him cry out in pleasure. Derek took that as a cue to repeat and he pulled out before thrusting hard.

Stiles slid a hand down to stroke is own unattended cock, edging him closer. After a few more thrusts, Stiles was coming all over his stomach and Derek’s, but not long after did Derek orgasm inside Stiles, letting out that low sound Stiles’ had quickly come to love. After a moment he slipped out of Stiles’ who instantly felt empty at the loss.

Derek fell back next to Stiles and they both huffed and breathed, coming down from their climaxes. When they had both returned to Earth, Stiles snuggled in close to Derek, laying his head on the man’s chest. Derek wrapped one arm around Stiles, while pulling up a sheet to cover them with the other.

Derek mumbled something into Stiles hair, low and sweet.

“What?” Stiles angled his head up to low at Derek.

“Move in with me?” he asked hopefully.

Stiles grinned, feeling silly and light. It took some effort, but he wiggled up the bed to kiss his boyfriend’s lips. “How the hell did I get you?”

“Funny, I was wondering the same about you.”


	8. Epilogue

“Really?”

“I’m dead serious. Whatever you want.”

It’s almost Halloween now, and Derek and Stiles have been living together since New Year’s. Stiles even got a job at Risky Business as their financial advisor, but sometimes just used it as excuse to hang out with the Hales.

Derek got the tattoo of Stiles name, just below Stiles’ favorite, the triskelion. They’ve fallen into an easy routine now, each comfortable in each other’s presences, genuinely happy to be together.

“Just do it, I’m waiting.”

“Where?”

Stiles handed Derek a magic marker, and turned around.

“Anywhere.”

“So your saying that I can draw whatever I want, wherever I want, and you’ll get it tattooed.”

“Yes, c’mon the anticipation is killing me.”

“Stiles, that’s crazy. I- can’t. What?”

Stiles shuddered with laughter. “I am spontaneous, and I know that no matter what you do, it will look awesome. You’re the best artist I know.” He turned around to face Derek again. “It would mean a lot to me.” He pouted.

Derek huffed and pressed on Stiles’ shoulder to turn him around again. He stared at the bare, pale skin, seeking out the perfect spot. Deep inside, Derek knew what to write and he was thrilled at the opportunity to put it on Stiles skin. He took a deep breath and popped the top of the marker.

Stiles waited patiently while Derek went about his work, he’d selected the area on the shoulder blade opposite Stiles’ other tattoo. Derek was deft at his craft, pressing hard enough so Stiles wasn’t tickled, but not enough to hurt. After about eight minutes, Derek pushed the cap back on the marker and stared at his creation.

“Are you sure about this?”

Stiles smiled and nodded. Derek sighed and Stiles handed him a hand held mirror, before they both stood in front of the full length one inside the closet door. Derek held the mirror so that Stiles could see the tattoo without contorting himself.

Stiles grin faded instantly when he read the tattoo. His mouth fell agape and moisture pooled in his eyes. “Derek…”

Derek leaned in and pressed a kiss to Stiles’ neck from behind and wrapped his arms around the younger man’s waist. “What do you think?”  
“Yes, Derek. God, yes!” Stiles smiled from ear to ear, eyes crinkling in happiness. He spun around in Derek’s arms and kissed him. In between kisses he muttered. “Yes… yes… yes…”

Derek smiled and caught a glimpse at the work he’d done on Stiles’ shoulder. In elegant cursive scripted black against white skin, it read:

Marry me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really appreciate everyone's comments and suggestions throughout this process. You were all a big help, thank you! :)


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